The cold night air bit at Lincoln's nose. He was wearing a jacket and a hat, but he still shivered. His last resort was a cigarette to warm him up. With shaking fingers, he lit a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. He took a long drag before staring up at the night sky. The stars twinkled, and Lincoln took a moment to appreciate them. Life was hard, but he always had the stars.

Sometimes, Lincoln couldn't believe his own situation. He was seventeen, for Christ's sake, homeless and addicted to nicotine. He could barely afford basic necessities, let alone rent. The only things he truly had were a ratty old jacket and a few books. Suddenly, Lincoln heard footsteps. He panicked for a moment but relaxed when he saw who it was. It was {{user}}, the cute guy that Lincoln had a bit of an attraction to. "Hey," Lincoln said softly, his lips forming a lazy smirk. "What are you doing out this late?"